


Love Always

by chervilspotatoes



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Crying Sherlock, Declarations Of Love, Fluff, Love Letters, M/M, Requited Love, Romantic John, Romantic Sherlock, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 14:04:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6010270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chervilspotatoes/pseuds/chervilspotatoes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John left a letter for Sherlock to read on Valentine's Day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Always

Sherlock pads to the kitchen for his morning tea. He grins. It is Valentine’s Day, and he and John have their evening all planned. John is working now, but when he comes home he will walk in the door and smile at Sherlock. He will stride to him and reach for his face, placing a tender kiss on Sherlock’s lips. 

That was what Sherlock liked so much about kissing John. It was a singular experience and John never kissed Sherlock like he had forgotten who he was or was too caught up in arousal to care who he was kissing. John’s kisses always said ‘I love you’ or some variant thereof. 

Sherlock carries his cup to the table and spots a flash of white. He picks up the paper, folded in neat thirds, and finds himself observing John’s handwriting, squiggly with letters running into each other.

 

_My beautiful Sherlock,_

_It is a day of love today, but I cannot restrain myself by only loving you or showing you I love you one day a year. You are everything, Sherlock. You deserve everything I am capable of offering. Because I do offer it, Sherlock. Whatever you need, whatever you want, I will give it to you._

_It’s easier for me to write this down, because I am not good with using my voice. I am, however, passable on paper. I’m not sure anyone could surpass you in elegance and beauty of writing or speech, but I am trying._

_I have loved you for so long, Sherlock. It seemed to take ages for us to get together while it was happening, everything just kept snowballing out of control until I didn’t know anything but you, and I was so unhappy and you were so unhappy. But now I wouldn’t trade that time for anything. Because now I understand you better, I am able to treat you better. I tried forgetting about you every way I could, but it took ages to realize you are the constant in my life. And I learned that of course it is possible to love you more, because you’re Sherlock. I always thought it was impossible that I should love you any more, but then every day I was proven wrong._

_What I’m trying to tell you is that you’re the love of my life. I could never love anyone as much as I love you. I love the wrinkles in your forehead as you wake up in the morning, I love the mole on your right arse cheek. I love how you look at me when you think I’ve just done something particularly stupid, I love how you scrunch up your nose at me when I suggest you eat breakfast. I love how you swirl around in your coat looking all imposing and businesslike, I love how your eyes flash with wonder and clarity as you put the pieces together before everyone else. I love how you cut people down to size with two and a half sentences of cutting remarks, I love your face when you’re about to do so, full of glee. The thing is, Sherlock, that all of these things could be considered faults of yours if you’re an idiot. But I have learned from the best and recognize that these things, along with your many strengths, are what makes you Sherlock._

_And I would not have you any other way._

_Don’t cry too much, love. I need you hydrated._

_Love always,_

_John_

 

Sherlock’s lower lip is trembling and he is half a step away from bawling. It surprises him every day how much John loves him. He scrambles for pen and paper and writes the companion for John’s gorgeous letter.

 

_My John,_

_I dislike how that sounds but I can hardly entitle this Dear John. You were right, I am still crying. I did drink tea this morning though._

_I know I was not ready for you when we first met. I was not ready to let anyone in my life, in my heart. But you always surprise me. Before I knew it, there you were, an integral part of my life. It took me longer to realize you had possession of my heart, too. It is always yours, John. I never thought it was worth anything, but you think it is worth everything, so it must be true._

_I love everything about you and I trust you. I love that you are a gentleman to me, never pushing me beyond what I want to have or give. I love that you’re a grumpy arse to everyone else. I love how you gaze into my eyes while we make love, holding me so tightly and tenderly I feel utterly consumed and utterly safe. I love how you love me so brilliantly it makes me whole. I love how you glare at people who insult me and grip my hand as if to transfer the barb to you and burn it away with your gaze. I love how you grumble at visitors, especially Mycroft. I love your brilliance, so blinding on its own and complimenting my own so we make a sun together._

_In essence, I love you. I love you so much. I am always yours. I will always love you._

_Love always,_

_Sherlock_

 

John came home beaming. It was Valentine’s Day and Sherlock would be waiting. John walked in expecting to see Sherlock nearby, but realized he was in the shower by the sound of running water. John knew what that meant. It was to distance himself just a little so John could absorb the letter Sherlock had written him without being watched and Sherlock feeling overly exposed. 

He found the letter and unfolded it delicately, knowing he would keep this paper forever.

 

Sherlock stepped out on the bath mat and began drying his face and shoulders. He finished drying off and rubbed lotion into his hands, wrapping his towel around his hips. Emerging from the bathroom, he saw John, sitting at the table and beaming at him. 

John stood and moved to hold Sherlock’s face in his fingers, stretching up to bestow a light kiss on Sherlock’s lips. 

Sherlock smiled at John, his eyes softening. Their beautiful Valentine’s Day was off to a lovely start.


End file.
